


Tattoo

by angellus08



Category: The Originals (TV), The Vampire Diaries (TV)
Genre: Established Relationship, F/M, Future Fic, kinda fluffy I guess maybe
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-10-25
Updated: 2017-10-25
Packaged: 2019-01-22 20:20:26
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,215
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12490044
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/angellus08/pseuds/angellus08
Summary: Klaus designs a tattoo for Caroline.Another prompt from the Klaroline69 tumblr.





	Tattoo

> **Prompt - Klaus designs a tattoo for Caroline and presents it to her out of the blue.**
> 
> **No baby in any of my stories! Also let's for the sake of this drabble assume that Vampire's can get tattoo's and they won't just heal/vanish their tattoos in 15 minutes!**
> 
> * * *
> 
>  

She notices the subtle hints of something brewing in the twisty depths of the Original's mind long before he says anything.

At first, his soft longing look as she curls up against him and buries her nose in her favorite book catches her attention. It's peculiar, and slightly creepy when he presses his nose against the top of her head and inhales deeply. But he's always been those things; creepy and peculiar. But not recently, not in the past 30 years they've been together.

Next she notices the way he holds her when they sleep. If she had been human, he would have smothered her to death in his sleep by now. He slept with his arm around her waist, tightly, almost painfully gripping her against him like he was afraid she would run away into the night.

Then she notices his hesitation, the way he starts to say something but diverts in a flash, and Klaus never hesitates. It isn't in his nature to think and then act. It makes her wonder, but it doesn't trouble her yet. So, she lets it go.

She notices the drawing - this all important drawing he's been working on for weeks - that he won't let her see. It troubles her. He's always been quick to share his art with her, never fearing to showcase his vulnerability towards her. When she walks into the room he slams his sketchbook shut and stuffs it in his personal vault; one she has tried and failed to open for 30 years.

She notices the way he lightly traces a pattern on her skin when he thinks she's sleeping. His breath ghosts over her shoulder as he runs his brute fingers over the bridge between her shoulder blades, gently but firmly like he's marking it, marking her. It scares her. It unnerves her. She senses an emotion from him in those secluded moments deep into the night that she's never seen before.

But in 30 years she's learnt that Klaus only opens up when he wants to, no one can corner him into it, not even her. So she waits for that inevitable day, patiently but with trepidation.

When that day finally comes, they're celebrating her birthday with a quiet day at home. No party, no people, no hassles. A giant crate of the best wine, a cooler filled with fresh blood, and 10 of her favorite movies. Just the two of them, curled up under her favorite blanket. It seemed boring from the outside, but she'd had the extravagant parties, trips all over the world and luxurious gifts over the 30 years, but nothing made her happier than just being like this with him.

His rough fingers weave through her slender, soft ones as he tugs her hand up to get her to look at him. Picking her head off his shoulder and grudgingly pausing 'Tangled', she gazes up at him from under her lashes and raises her brows in question. He turns his palm over, taking hers with him as the small tattoo on his wrist becomes visible.

"Do you remember when I got this?" He softly asks, and her gaze falls down to the mark on his right wrist. Her nimble finger runs over it as she mentally reads it for the 100th time - XXV. - was elegantly inked onto his skin.

She remembers the day well; the war with Marcel was finally over, a semblance of peace had trickled its way into their lives, and on a lazy Tuesday morning, not long after the day of the final battle, he had awoken her with a myriad of kisses, looked straight into her drowsy blue eyes and asked her if she regretted coming to him, if even for a second she wished she hadn't gotten into her car that fateful Saturday night and driven to him. She remembers feeling no hesitation when she said no, that no matter what happens she'd never regret choosing to come to him. And then she remembers him telling her to get dressed. He dragged her to a tattoo parlor, an ecstatic energy buzzing about him as he told her to wait outside. When he came out, a slightly nervous smile on his face as he showed her his wrist. Her heart seemed to pull apart in her chest, a low dull ache spreading across her as the significance of the tattoo settled within her.

XXV. . 25.10.2017. 25th October 2017.

The day she had turned up at his doorstep, hope burning bright in her eyes as she asked him to show her the world, to show her everything she'd been missing.

It was a date she would never forget.

"It's a date I never want to forget." He had whispered, taking her hand in his as he watched her nervously swallow and look up at him, tears blurring the edge of her eyes as she let out a surprised laugh. She already knew that the tattoo of a sun on his back was a somewhat symbol of her significance in his life, the light, the good. He had said so much late one night, sated and tangled under the covers.

But this, this was something else. This was marking a day in his life on his body, a day that represented her. The day her new life began.

"I thought it was only appropriate to commemorate the day my new life started." The day their new life started.

She had no words to say, which was a first. Instead, her hand wrapped around his wrist, bringing it up to her face and lightly kissing the swollen skin of his wrist where the tattoo lay.

Later that night, as they lay half-asleep in bed, her back pressed against his chest and her ring finger tracing the path of the tattoo, she softly whispered against the back of his palm, "One day I want to get a tattoo for you too."

"Of course, I remember." She replies gratingly, clearing her throat and taking a deep breath. Even after 6 months the gesture makes her emotional.

He seemed to study her for a while, watching her with wide speculative eyes before getting up and disappearing into his study. Itching to go after him, Caroline controls her curious character and keeps herself seated on the couch, her inquisitiveness increasing ten-fold when she hears the metallic door of Klaus' personal safe open and close.

In a flash he's sitting next to her, the evasive sketchbook lying on his lap as he turns towards her. She can feel the excitement rising within her as he flips through pages and pages of the sketchbook until he finally reaches the one he's looking for.

"I designed a tattoo for you." He says with conviction, a hint of a smile ghosting over the edge of his lips.

She faltered for a bit, opening and closing her mouth before laughing in relief and shaking her head. "You drew a tattoo for me?" And to think of the horrible scenarios she had dreamt up to explain his peculiar behavior.

"Yes," he replies sternly, his forehead furrowing in a manner that instantly reminds her of Stefan, "I remember you saying that…, perhaps I was," he stumbles over his words and comes to a sudden halt, closing the sketchbook and for a fleeting second she see's hurt flash over his face.

"No, no no…," She interjects hastily, stopping him from closing the sketchbook and shaking her head furiously, "You did, I mean I did. I do want a tattoo that'll remind me of you." She adds decisively and smiles at him, tilting her head and prying his hands out of the book so she can take a look at his drawing.

What she sees takes her breath away. At first simply because of his astonishing skills. Everything he does is beautiful, even the little notes he leaves her on his pillow look like were written with expert calligraphy. But this is on another level, it reaches out to her, it calls to her. Maybe because its a symbol of him, that's meant to be etched on her skin forever. It's only when she looks closely that she realizes it isn't just representing him, it's a symbol of them, of what they are together.

The first thing she notices is the majestic head of a wolf in the center of the drawing, it's features eerily reminiscent of Klaus' own wolf form. The wolf seems to be mid-howl, its powerful jaw unhinged and in every stroke of its outline she can feel the power it symbolizes. It's fearless and ruthless and majestic. Just like Klaus. A wild and bright sun surrounds the wolf on all sides, engulfing one side of it's face in light, while the other remains in the darkness.

The sun is her. The wolf is him.

"You've pulled me into your light, Caroline." He softly murmurs, his stubble scraping on her shoulder as he lightly kisses the edge of her jaw. "Something no one, me especially, ever thought would happen. And I fought it, I fought it like the stubborn brute I am," he adds pointedly. Caroline laughs at the memory of their first few years; the years when despite his grand declarations he fought tooth and nail to not completely give in to her, to prove to her and himself that he didn't need her. It was hard, unbearably so at times, but it's what brought them here. To this day, where he no longer had any inhibitions around her.

"But I surrendered love," He jokes, bumping his forehead against her shoulder and she runs her hand over the sketch, admiring its complex simplicity; such a generic image spoke volumes about him, about them. He watches as she traces the pattern of the wolf's mane in the pitch black side of the drawing, her brows creasing as she turns to look at him, the significance of the dark side still confusing her, even though she has an inkling what it's meant to imply.

"And yet a part of me remains in the dark," he says, his voice deep and low, but determined, so determined. "And it will always remain in the dark. It's a part of me now, this darkness, it has been for far too long. It's who I am."

And now, she understands, she understands the longing stares, the tight grip and uncertainty. She remembers. She remember the day, almost 5 months ago when Klaus had massacred 7 witches right in front of her. Ripped their heads right off their body. All because they had planned on taking her to get to him. She'd yelled out at him to just threaten, all the while knowing that he would pay no heed. But she had to try, that's just who she was. She'd been shell shocked, her body frozen in its place as he had walked up to her, body covered in blood and declared with cold, dead gray eyes that he wouldn't be sorry and she shouldn't expect him to be.

He was afraid. Afraid that his dark side might be too much for her. But also resigned to the fact that it would always be a side of him.

"I know," she says assuredly, moving closer to him and intertwining her hands with his, "I know Klaus, and I'm not afraid. I'm not afraid of you, or your darkness." He swallowed tightly, curtly nodding her head. "I understand it," she adds in a throaty whisper, placing her palm on his cheek and tilting his head up towards her, "I do. I understand what you did, because… because,"

"Because?" He urged, tucking a stray blond hair behind her ear.

Tilting her head, she visibly struggled with her words, finding it hard to voice what she had realized that night itself. "I understand because if anyone hurt you I'd want to kill them too." She confessed roughly, her voice gruff and broken. Pushing her tears away she pulled herself closer to him and rested her forehead against his. "I'd want to kill them all." She whispered against his lips, making him smile sadly and cup her face with his hands.

It's something she had struggled with, for a long time now. The concept that he had pulled a little of her into his darkness just like she had pulled a little of him into her light.

"It won't drive me away Klaus," she adds in firm conclusion, closing her eyes as a lone tear escaped her, "Nothing will keep me away from you."

"Good," He stated, lightly nipping her lips before pulling her in for a bruising kiss.

* * *

 

Her head lays on his chest, her eyes heavy with sleep as he trailed his fingers over the form of the wolf on her back, in between the junction of her shoulder blades, dark and light in perfect balance. Exactly behind her heart.

* * *

 

_ I imagined the House Stark Wolf from their Sigil as the wolf in the tattoo! _


End file.
